


Skystar

by Artfreak201



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: AU, F/M, Forced Mental communication, Forced physical contact, Healing, Imprisonment, Memory Loss, Mentions of kidnapping, Past Relationships, Recovery, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Some events altered to happen earlier or later, Talking via Whispers, dubcon, one-sided relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-03 21:52:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4116175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artfreak201/pseuds/Artfreak201
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Night Elf woman is found injured in a cave by a Troll. He heals her, takes her in, and he helps her begin a new life, seeing as she can't remember her past. They survive trial after trial, and eventually find themselves in Outland, where they attempt to ambush Ruul the Darkener. They are ambushed themselves and become captives. Grand Commander Ruusk seems to see something in Rahnah, and she is taken to the Black Temple to await her fate. </p><p>This is Rahnah's life, with all the hardship, love, and sorrow that comes with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ambush

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, and thank you for stopping by to give my story a perusal! There some concepts of the World of Warcraft that I will be touching on throughout the story, including communication via Whispers (called Heart whispers, here), the storage and use of Mana, Guilds, and Hunters taming beasts rapidly.
> 
> Please take time to read all of the tags, so you know what you're getting into. There are some dark themes in this story, due to the nature of some of the characters. This story will encompass up to and through Cataclysm, in the long run. (I currently lack the means to play WoW so all my lore is gained through the internet. I have played through Panderia but don't feel like including it)
> 
> Just as a heads up, while the tag Illidan / OFC is present, it isn't the focus of the story. You'll see what I mean when we start working through chapters :)
> 
> Till then, Enjoy!

Astral bodies loomed overhead, some large enough you fear they will crash to the ground, others so infinitesimally tiny that when you blink they disappear. Down below, upon the barren ground, a pair of golden eyes stare into the vast ranges between planets, seldom blinking. The owner studies the depths of space with longing, as if willing something surreal to happen. The gaze darts back to the ground before them, and the eyes narrow. Hidden in the shadows unseen, they're drawn to movement across the expanse of bluish purple dirt and rock. Something shifts in the distance, an oblong shadow below one of the massive glowing crystals that decorate the otherwise empty valley. A glimpse of color, a flash of red for the briefest moment before melding into the landscape.

A look of recognition dawns on the feline face, and the animal relaxes. Tucked under a crystal of her own, the nearly pitch black panther resumes surveying the land before her. Her companion was across the way, now nestled into his own shadow beneath the behemoth crystal jutting from the ground. They were waiting, patiently, for their prey. The low valley surrounded by sheer, dominating cliffs was usually busy with activity. A species of multiple scythe-armed beasts were notably absent. A shadow passed overhead, and her gaze was once again distracted. One of the many dragons that called this valley and the fortress at the other end of it home was gliding over, much too high to be a concern. 

A faint pull on her mind had her directing her gaze to the left. There. Their prey was approaching. Astride a massive armored Nether drake was a pale-skinned Elf sporting a red eye patch, alongside a hefty (and hindering) amount of armor. On his back were two swords alight with energy. The pull returned and with it a thought of worry, though the worry wasn't hers. She sent back a soothing thought and the pull on her mind faded. They could do this, they were strong enough. 

The Elf and drake landed with a flurry of dust in their wake. The panther didn't hesitate, she prowled forward and into range. Her companion beat her, and the Nether drake let out an ear-splitting cry of pain, its head bowed with the weight of a fully grown male tiger ripping into the spaces between its armor. The Elf moved to react, and she pounced. He let out a cry of his own as he was knocked into the dirt with the panther on top. Before the Elf could make a grab, the big cat was off of him with a bound. She sucked in a lungful of air and released a roar which was shortly followed by one from the tiger, who had leapt from the drake's head back to the dirt. 

Focusing on their targets, with only an occasional pull on each others' minds, each feline kept their opponent thoroughly distracted with swipes, bites, and a few headbutts. The Elf had drawn his twin swords, each one the length of his body and held as if it weighed nothing. She dodged several swings of the blades, but also received more than a few cuts, one of which was especially deep on her back. She shook it off and continued her relentless attacks. A strong pull caused her to misstep as she looked over with panic to her companion. The tiger was wounded, badly, and was facing off with not only the armored Nether drake, but a swarm of the creatures which instantly overwhelmed him. One sunk its teeth into the tiger's back, and started thrashing him around. 

A cry ripped through the air. She continued to wail as she went to go to his aid, only to stumble before her world went black with the sound of a resounding crack.

~

2 years earlier

 

Trolls had long since joined Thrall's Horde, and have migrated to the Echo Isles. There, a small sect was formed in secret, of powerful Trolls who were learning the ways of the Druid.

In the year 24, one of the Druids visits a cave he has been keeping an eye on for subjugates of Zalazane. What he finds is not what he had expected. In the depths of the intricate cave system is a wounded Night Elf woman, with a severe head injury and multiple deep cuts. Having only heard of Night Elves from stories, the Druid was cautious, but his morals won over and he healed her injury. When she wouldn't wake, he took her back to his small Druid community. 

She remained comatose for a little over three weeks. When she finally came to, she could remember nothing of her past, or how she became injured. The only clues to her hidden past were a matching pair of jewelry, a choker and earring that shared a crescent moon motif. On the back of the pendant was one word, a name; 'Rahnah'. Lacking a last name, the Druid gave her his; Ban'jin. Her clothes were simple cloth trousers, slippers and a shirt, with no identifying features. Her face was bare of the customary tattoos that most Night Elf women donned. 

Together they decided it was best to move on, and for her to become a new person. Together they made a home on the mainland of Kalimdor, hidden from both Alliance and Horde. As she became accustomed to her new life, she discovered a proclivity for the Druidic arts, more so than the Troll who found her, Bosambok. However, her affinity for the ways of the Druid were limited. Her healing skills were mediocre, as well as her ability to restore and maintain balance. Her powers were deeply rooted to the feral ways, so much so that she is unable to transform into most of a Druid's normal shapes. She can't become a doe, a bear, a seal, or treant. She can't even shift into a raven. She seems to be restricted to feline forms, being able to transform into nearly any kind of big cat. Her favored form is the panther, followed by the cheetah. While she is able to become other cats, she usually only resorts to them if the form is more efficient than the panther.

For a year they were at peace with their studies. During that time Rahnah had embraced her Night Elf culture and marked her face with red tattoos in the appearance of claw rakes.

Then they were discovered by a exploring Horde squad, and were forced to flee once again.

Side by side, they journey to Kalimdor's mainland to find a new home. For months they search, until they come across Feralas, a contested territory. There, they find the Dream Bough, teeming with green dragonkin. When the pair tried to communicate with the dragons, they were attacked. With only one conclusion to the dragons' abnormal reactions, Bosambok and Rahnah tasked themselves with restoring the sanity of the dragons' minds. Consumed by the Nightmare, it was slow going recovering the numerous residents of the Dream Bough. During their restoration, they come across the gate to the Emerald Dream, one of four located across Azeroth. 

After the last dragonkin was cleansed, the earth trembled and the wind roared. From the gate emerged a wyrm trapped within the Old Gods' influence, named Lethon. His purpose was to decimate whatever had been releasing the ensnared dragons. Bosambok and Rahnah feared for the lives within Feralas. Lethon would rampage the entirety of the forest ranges in his search. As Lethon calls out for the 'pathetic mortals that dare to challenge the might of the Nightmare', the two Druids attack the massive drake. Things look bleak, until they were joined by the freed dragonkin. Some fall back into the Nightmare's grasp, and begin fighting their comrades.

After much struggle, Lethon is subdued and the two feral Druids begin to channel power into him. Lethon stirs, and the milky white cloud leaves his eyes as the Nightmare faded from his mind. He thanked Bosambok and Rahnah, and resumed his task of protecting the gate. Bosambok was visited in a dream by Ysera of the Dream, where she thanked him and promised to one day aid them when their need is dire. Ysera then visits Rahnah's dream, and informs her that she is destined for something beyond her current comprehension, and alluding to her past, saying that one day her past with find her and send her on the path to her destiny. 

Through Lethon, Ysera requested that they venture to the cursed lands of Azshara to try and quell the discord that lived there. There they meet a blind Night Elf named Loramus Thalipedes, a Demon Hunter. He asked Rahnah where she received her Demon Hunter training. Confused, Rahnah denied any training. Loramus insisted that she carried herself like a Demon Hunter, and showed a tainted aura. Curious, Rahnah pursued information from Loramus. Later, the Demon Hunter registered a strong demonic presence far to the east, and with the two Druids joining him, he sought out the source.

The Dark Portal had opened. Rahnah and Bosambok depart from Loramus and travel to Outland, where they believe their assistance was needed. They meet Anastrasz, a red wyrm in a self-imposed exile, and were invited to join his faction-neutral guild whose goal is to restore peace to Outland. They join. During a mission to attempt to cleanse Shadowmoon Valley, the pair happen upon Borak, son of Oronok. He asked for assistance with a way to prevent another shattering of the land, by collecting Cipher shards so they can defeat the memory of Gul'dan. They recover the first two shards of the Cipher of Damnation with ease. The third lies under Eclipsion control. In disguise, Rahnah ordered Grand Commander Ruusk to move the Cipher shard. Ruusk confirmed that he will send Ruul the Darkener to transport the Cipher.

Ruul knew they were coming.

~

Voices are reaching her, but they are muffled and don't sound like coherent words, at least not to her. The sound of a groan rumbles through her eardrums, and a second time before it registers that it is her making the noise. Eyelids flutter open before slamming shut because of the brightness. After a long moment she forces her eyes open and this time endures the pain of the light before it dulls and she could make out blurry shapes and muddled grays. She tried making sense of what she could see, but her mind isn't cooperating. The voices had stopped, but now they came back, only louder and not a bit less muffled. 

With a moan she shut her eyes and tried to sit up, but found she couldn't. It was then that she noticed the heavy weight across her back, keeping her bound to the floor. With effort, she slowly opens her eyes and tries to blink away the blurs. Something moves repeatedly in front of her face, and she gave a weak snarl, baring her large fangs. After a minute, her vision began to clear, and the offending object was removed. The voice was saying something, and as she strained to listen, it got clearer.

"...are..right...how hard...her?" the words were getting clearer but she still couldn't make sense of it, bits stood out and other bits escaped her. Another voice answers the first, and she doesn't try to understand this time. Her head is pounding, her throat is dry and her tongue cleaves to the roof of her mouth. She can't sit up, or move, really. And then the pressure, all of it, releases and the clarity that slams upon her makes her moan again.

"Good grief, Ruul, did you have to hit her so hard?" a woman's voice chides, and Rahnah tries in vain to turn to the owner. She doesn't get very far, she is still bound to the ground, wherever she was. With a grunt she shoves her body up, testing her strength and the integrity of her bindings. They gave a few centimeters, but otherwise wouldn't budge. Distracted, she is thoroughly shocked when she looks forward and finds the face of a young woman staring back at her. A surprised roar, or maybe it was closer to a yelp, escapes her.

"Oh! Sorry, didn't mean to startle you, I just wanted to see how awake you were." the woman apologizes, backing up. She stares at her, dumbfounded. She is currently trapped, and this - she paused to look at her a little closer - Blood Elf, was sorry to have shocked her? What was going on? And why couldn't she transform? With another grunt she pushes against her bindings again, desperately wanting to be able to get up and shift back to her normal form.

"Told you she'd be fine, stop complaining." a man's voice grumbles from behind her. That must have been Ruul. She growls and tests her bounds again, and again, and again, in rapid succession. There is absolutely no give to it, but at least it isn't cutting into her skin, which means instead of chains, it is leather, or maybe cloth, keeping her down.

"Ruul, go tell him that his...Guest...Is awake, now." there is a pause. "Don't give me that look!" the Blood Elf snaps, glaring at Ruul, who must be the one behind her. Her objective came back to her and she let out a roar of complaint. Instead of defeating Ruul the Darkener like she and her companion had been tasked, something went wrong and she was now his captive. Or someone's captive, since Ruul was being sent to get someone. That only left a few possibilities, Ruul only answered to a few superiors. She watches as Ruul stepped around her and left.

She looks around again, trying to find something that would give away the location of her prison. In front of her, but behind the Blood Elf woman (who was now on her knees in front of her), are a series of bars that Ruul had left through. A cell, lovely. Beyond it was nothing but a dark matte gray wall with a simple sconce housing a flaming torch. She couldn't really see to either side of her, so that left her completely drawing a blank at where she was. Without many other options, she looks at the woman in front of her, who was busy observing her, holding her hands above the her head on either side.

A faint pull on Rahnah's mind came, and with a pleading croon she tries to return it. The pull came again, softer this time, and the emotion unclear. That means he is either a great distance away, or in a similar cell, which both probably had the spells to block heart whispers. Heart whispers were a blessing and a curse. With them, a person could communicate with anyone to which they opened up their heart, and the other open theirs in return. One-sided whispers were both unproductive, and the whisperer could dole out any kind of emotion to the one who opened their heart, hence the curse. You see, Heart whispers can be dangerous. Once you open up your heart to someone, you can't shut them out without a great deal of pain, which would resurface any time the shut out person tries to contact the one who shut them out. Those lucky enough to have someone else open their heart, usually return the gift. But once in a while, the one giving is taken advantage of. It is a horrible thing to hurt someone using the whispers of the heart, a cultural taboo. She is grateful that it had never happened to her...

She came back to her senses as the woman pulled her hands away, placing them on her lap. She did an internal check, and was pleasantly surprised to find that the wounds she'd sustained trying to kill Ruul had been healed. To her dismay, her mana pool was empty. Well, that explained why she can't return to her normal form. While shifting doesn't take much mana, it does take some, and she was totally out. For someone who uses mana consistently, having their mana pool drained as thoroughly as hers is, is debilitating. Mercifully, her symptoms are minor. All she suffers now is a dry mouth and throat. Water can restore mana, but usually only mage-crafted drinks can restore a person's pool completely.

She's brought out of her thoughts as a water-skin is brought to her lips. She hesitates, despite her thirst.

"It's just plain water, sorry. I know you'd like something more refreshing, but this is all I'm allowed to give you." the Elf explains, before taking a drink from the skin to show that it isn't poisoned. Rahnah waited until the woman had made a show of swallowing and showing her empty mouth before accepting the beverage. She drank greedily, and all too soon the skin is pulled away from her.

"Don't want to give you too much, not because of your mana. You've been out for a while, too much too soon and you'll vomit it up. I'd rather not clean up puke today." the Blood Elf chuckles, offering a smile. It isn't returned. Footsteps began to echo down the hallway, and the woman scrambles to her feet, backing up to the wall next to her and lowering her head. Rahnah couldn't tell if it was out of respect or fear. It was probably both.

The steps became louder, and Ruul entered her field of vision, followed by a much more menacing figure.

"What is so important about this one, Ruul? I fail to see -" the second Blood Elf stops short once he looks at her. She glowers, and isn't sure what has caused the man to hesitate. A frown lines his lips.

"I see...Thank you for bringing her to my attention. I'll take it from here, you're dismissed, Ruul." the superior orders, waving his hand dismissively. Ruul gives a short bow and leaves the way they had come. Obviously this man is high ranking, but she couldn't place who he is, even though his voice...sounds familiar...With the realization hitting her she heaves a sigh. Of course he was Grand Commander Ruusk, of Eclipsion point. She'd only ever seen him with his helmet on, and he is currently without. 

"Prep yourself and her to move. You'll need to keep her mana tapped out. I'll have one of the hawkstrider cages placed at the door. I hope you can manage getting her into it." Ruusk comments darkly. The woman nods once, and waits for Ruusk to leave. The man pauses, and looks at Rahnah again with a critical eye. 

"I hope you are her. He's been so distraught..." Ruusk mumbles, then leaves abruptly.


	2. Calling the Raven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slight trigger warning, near the end of this one. there are a few passages that imply suicide / embracing imminent death over the alternative.

Rahnah looks to the woman pleadingly, desperately wanting to know what in Elune's name is going on. The woman didn't offer her any sort of explanation, just a deep frown. With a wave of the Blood Elf's hand, the pressure on her back suddenly lifted. Rahnah sprang for the open door, and mid-leap she was frozen, just hanging stiffly in the air. 

The woman, a mage she realizes, enters her field of vision and begins to walk sullenly through the hall the men had left through. Unwillingly, Rahnah's immobilized body floats after her. 

"Please don't make this any harder. I don't know who you are, but if Ruusk's reaction is anything to go by, you're important to someone. For your sake, I hope it's not Lord Illidan. The last woman we took to him ended up being eaten by Naj'entus..." the Blood Elf shudders. 

Rahnah was temporarily blinded once again as they came to the end of the hall and made their way through the door at the end of it, and she had to blink several times to restore her vision. They are somewhere on the ridges that Eclipsion point is set into. That prison area seemed to have been dug straight out of the mountainside. She makes a sound of protest as she sees the cage that awaits her. Unceremoniously, she is forced in and she is released only after the door had been locked securely. 

She roars futilely and takes a few swipes at the bars. Anxious, she begins to pace within the confined space. She could only walk a few paces before having to turn back around. The cage is longer than it is wide, and as tall as it is long. Ruusk wasn't joking about it being a hawkstrider cage. There was a small entourage forming around the cage, with more than a few mounted Bloodwarders. At the front is Ruusk astride his own mount, and Ruul is a short distance away getting onto his drake. The dragon eyes Rahnah balefully. She offers it a snarl in response. She takes a look around and realizes that her companion is no where to be found. Panic courses through her veins at all the possibilities he might be facing. 

She sends out a desperate plea through their bond, and feels a weak response, full of guilt and sorrow. She sends another thought of worry and love his way, and it is given back in kind. 

The cage - which was on wheels, mind you - lurches suddenly and sends her sprawling onto the metal floor. With another snarl, she becomes resigned to her forced captivity and lays down, glaring angrily at anyone who dares to look at her. They travel for several hours and dozens of painful mana taps before Ruusk gives the order to break camp. By this moment in time, Rahnah has become absolutely exhausted and writhing in agony. She tries to remember when her last meal was. It must have been over a full day ago, because she and Bosambok had skipped the meal before they ambushed Ruul to keep their senses sharp, and if Ruusk's order to break camp was any indication, it was the end of another day. However, she doesn't know how long she was out for, so it could very well be much longer than that. 

Despite her hunger, she refuses to ask for food. If she is to be a prisoner, she will be an obstinate one to her last breath. It takes about an hour before their camp is totally set up and the entourage begins a semblance of daily life. Some sat around a fire, laughing and telling stories or jokes. At another fire a Blood Elf looks to be tending to a large cauldron. Rahnah spots the woman who had given her water before, and with a twinge of longing she watches as she talks animatedly with one of her comrades. 

She lowers her eyes to the cage floor, her head on her paws and her body curled up tight with her tail swishing agitatedly. Being imprisoned sort of makes one realize how precious life is, how special one is for having loved ones, friends. Her thoughts shifted to her companion, Bosambok. She hopes he is being treated at least as good as her...Her heart aches and she reaches out to contact him again, and she doesn't get a response this time. They are simply too far from each other. 

A rapping on the bars of the cage brings her attention back to the present, and she doles out a menacing glare to whoever made the noise. Its the Blood Elf woman again, and she has a bowl that is currently steaming in one hand. She reaches her other hand into the cage and makes the tiniest contact with the Druid's fur. Rahnah sighs and braces herself for the pain. It comes like it usually does, like a slap to the face but more powerful. She recoils with a groan, her eyes screwed shut. As the pain begins to fade, a soft clatter reaches her ears. She returns her attention to the woman and sees that the bowl was placed in the cage, via a miniature teleport. 

"It's not much, but its what everyone in the camp is eating, at least. Just some stew with basilisk in it. Don't worry, they were from Terrokar, no fel taint to them." she reassures, offering a small smile. Rahnah looks at the bowl, and sighs. Even though the woman is the enemy, she wishes she could speak so she could thank her. But as talented as Druids are in the way of shapeshifting, animal anatomy wouldn't allow for the proper vocal chords to communicate through words. Doing her best to convey her gratitude, she gives a soft croon.

The woman smiles, and reaches into the cage again, Rahnah flinches back out of habit. The hand lands on the top of her head, and the feared mana tap doesn't come. The hand strokes her fur softly for a moment before withdrawing. The woman leaves without another word. Looking back into the bowl with a thick brown stew chock full of vegetables and chunks of meat, she waits several minutes for it to cool down to a comfortable temperature. She forces herself to eat slowly, savoring every gulp and bite. She does this for two reasons, the first is that like the water, she didn't want to eat too fast and upset her stomach. The second is because she doesn't know when her next meal will be, best to enjoy it while she could.

Too soon the bowl was empty and her flat tongue had scraped the walls of the ceramic ware clean. Sighing contently, she pushes the bowl to the edge of the cage with a paw before curling up on the opposite side (well, a foot or so) to try and sleep. She was about to doze of when another rap on the bars sounds. Groaning, she turns, expecting the woman to be there for another mana tap. To her shock, it was Ruusk. She eyes him warily, trying to figure out what his game is.

He looks down at her with something resembling sadness, but maybe he is just looking at her with pity. 

"I know you can't talk, but I'd like it if you listened..." he began slowly, his arms linked behind his back. "We are taking you to the Black Temple. There, you will be appraised by Prince Kael'thas to determine if you are who we think you are. For your sake, I hope you are. The situation is dire, and with every misidentified woman, he grows more unstable and sullen. There are some at the Temple who say he never leaves his chambers, and destruction is heard from outside..." Ruusk pauses, and looks at her with furrowed brows. She snarls as he extends a hand towards her. He is unfazed, and takes hold of the necklace at her throat. Unwillingly, she stills and breathes heavily. 

"This one looks different than the other ones..." the Elf mumbles, and he turns the pendant over in his hand. Not daring to move, she looks at him with despair. The necklace is one of the only clues to her past, it is as precious to her as the life of her surrogate father. She prays that he won't take it from her...

"By the Sunwell..." he gasps, his jaw slack. Rahnah looks up and accidentally meets his gaze. He seems shocked, and his hand had fallen to his side. His gaze transforms into one of awe, and to Rahnah's bewilderment he lowers his head in a small bow. She cocks her head to the side and stares at him with confusion. He doesn't seem bothered by it as he meets her eye again. 

"It's you...Finally, you're back. I'm tempted to bypass the Prince, but...No. We must be unerring this time. We can't afford for him to be more chaotic." Ruusk decides, and once again bowing his head, he leaves. She is totally lost. She had so many questions to ask. What was so important about her? She was just a neutral Druid who, before they captured her, was very successful at causing disruption in the Eclipsion ranks. If she was anyone to them, she was a pain in the ass at best. 

Thoroughly befuddled, she once again tries to sleep, and this time she isn't disturbed. 

~

When what passes for morning in this unchanging place comes around, she is wide awake and very antsy. She hadn't been let out of her cage yet, and she very much needed to heed the call of nature... The woman came for her again, magically summoning the bowl out of the cage before noticing Rahnah's stiff posture. She raised a brow at the Druid, and it took a low keening noise for it to click. 

"Oh! Oh I'm so sorry! I was meant to let you out to do your business last night, but Ruusk was with you and I didn't want to interrupt..." the Blood Elf rambled, reaching into a pocket and fetching a key. She quickly unlocks the door and before Rahnah can even think about trying to escape again she is once again rendered immobile. 

"Look, if you promise to cooperate I'll unfreeze you. But if you so much as take a paw out of line you're going back in the cage and you'll have to see to your needs in here. Got it?" she barked, her usually meek personality suddenly quite fierce. Rahnah was released from the spell, and she didn't move a muscle. The other Elf eyed her for a moment before stepping out of the way and beckoning to her. Rahnah slowly steps out of the cage, and feels several pairs of eyes on her. She doesn't need to look to know that a great deal of the entourage is watching her. 

She is led to what looks like a latrine pit, and the woman turns around. Rahnah can feel the Elf's magic touching her, and knows that even if she wanted to, she couldn't slip away without being caught. Grumbling indignantly, she hurries to complete her business. When she is done, she stalks back towards the Blood Elf, and she leads her back through the camp and into the cage. The door shuts, locks, and she is once again trapped in a box. 

The camp begins its process of breaking down, and after a little while they depart again, the pair of hawkstriders pulling her cage acting fussy. They snapped at each other, pulling feathers and pecking so hard they drew blood. The procession is called to a halt and one of the birds is swiftly replaced by a mellower one. They continue again and its about an hour into their travel when she sees it. Looming in front of them was the great Black Temple, once the Temple of Karabor. The structures grew larger and larger and by another couple of hours they were passing through the gates under the watchful eye of an absolutely massive fel reaver. 

She was suddenly grateful for the Elves' presence. Without them, she'd surely be killed by the monstrosity. Not that she is happy about this arrangement, but she is glad she isn't going to be stomped under one of those gigantic mechanical feet. She isn't sure where they are heading, but the majority of the entourage peels off and heads somewhere else, leaving Ruusk and the Mage along with the two hawkstriders pulling her cage. The now much smaller procession enters one of the structures, which is decorated distinctly like Blood Elves' heritage. She rolls her eyes, unimpressed. 

They must be heading to Kael'thas immediately, then. Yay. 

Before too long they were stopped by a set of guards, who ask Ruusk his purpose. He says something about Kael'thas asking to see a specific prisoner. The guard in charge is skeptical, and asks for proof. The Grand Commander bristles and attempts to assert his authority over the guards. They buckle and let the little group pass, not without giving vicious glares to Rahnah. They don't trust her...Good.

They stopped in a large circular room with a domed roof, with several doors that, presumably, led to more passages. Ruusk dismounts, assists the Mage in dismounting, and they send their hawkstriders off with a young Blood Elf who appeared out of thin air. Sparing the Druid a glance, Ruusk approaches the largest set of doors, knocks, and is answered by another young Blood Elf, who asks for the name of the one calling for Kael'thas. Ruusk answers politely, and then they wait. 

It felt like a longer wait than it was, and Rahnah had started pacing again. The doors opened again with the young man pushing them aside, and behind him strode the pompous Prince himself, Kael'thas. Rahnah gave him a sneer and continued pacing, as if it would release her. Kael'thas approached Ruusk and demanded to know why a Cat druid was in a cage, and why the two of them had brought her here in the first place. Ruusk answers with a gesture in her direction, and Rahnah falls under the Bloodmage's scrutiny. She doesn't like his face, she decides, and takes a leap at the front of the cage, roaring as she stands on her hind legs and swipes a paw through the bars. 

His reaction should have been anger, or amusement maybe. But like Ruusk, he went through a series of emotions Rahnah simply didn't expect from their kind. Shock, awe, and finally recognition. The Prince turns to Ruusk and whispers something so low that not even her keen ears can hear it. Ruusk responds, just as soft. Kael'thas nods and steps closer to the cage. Rahnah drops down to all fours and gives another roar, which does absolutely nothing. 

The Bloodmage's hand shoots out, and again like Ruusk, grasps the crescent moon pendant around her throat. Like before, fear courses through her and she freezes upon her own accord. Kael'thas turns the moon over, and instead of mirroring Ruusk's gasp, a hollow chuckle rumbles through him. 

"This... This is unbelievable..." The prince begins, catching her staring at him. "You've come home, Rahnah, at last." he whispers reverently, releasing his grip and stepping back. 

A scream rips through her throat as she is encompassed by pain over her entire body. Her skin burns, her eyes feel like they are being ripped out of their sockets as they roll back into her skull, and bones seem to crumble to dust when her body comes in contact with the ground. She writhes in agony on the cage floor, whimpering as she recovers from being forced to shift back to her Elven body in the most painful way imaginable. Very few classes know how to force a transformation, apparently Kael'thas is one of them. She pushes her forehead against the cool metal of the floor, her face twisted in horrific misery. Vaguely she registers that the cage door is opened, and that she is picked up by strong arms. A brief thought makes her appreciate that Druids had long ago perfected the ability to not ruin their clothes upon transformation. Being naked right now would be awful on top of the searing pain. 

She is set down on a bed, and she forces her eyes open as the agony begins to dwindle. She'd forgotten what it felt like to be forced to change. It'd only ever happened one other time, and it was every bit as painful now as it had been then. Her head lolls to the left and she spies that woman Mage sitting in a chair by the bed. Ruusk and Kael'thas were no where to be found. The Mage brightens and hurries to the Druid's side. 

"How is it?" comes the over-eager, if still concerned, question. Rahnah offers a weak glare for her attitude. The Mage has the decency to look guilty. 

"Sorry, it's just...You're her! You're the one in the rumor, no one in the lower ranks was supposed to know, but you know how gossip goes. Are you still in pain? I can have a healer brought in, if it'll help." the woman, with the right levels of concern and energy this time, asked. Rahnah makes an attempt to speak, and finds her throat hoarse, her lips and tongue dry. A look of understanding comes across the Blood Elf and she reaches for something behind her on a table. 

"Here, Kael'thas said you're to have as much food and drink as you want, but if you want my advice, take it slow. Your body might still go into shock." she chatters as she hands what Rahnah sees is a plain glass of water to her. Carefully, she sits up with a grunt, before taking the offered drink in both hands. To her dismay, her hands shook and made it difficult to bring the cup to her lips. She didn't like this part... Like when she had been forced to shift that other time, her body was experiencing a weak period as it attempted to remember its functions properly. When a Druid shifted normally, they spent a great deal of the transformation time on reconnecting neural pathways and assisting the body to make the change. A forced change had no such time period, as it skipped it entirely so as to make the Druid shift as quickly as possible. If the Druid was an enemy... Well the period of weakness was just one more advantage to the caster. 

When she tried to bring the water to her lips, some spilled over the front of her leathers. A hand reached out and steadied the glass, helping her to take the drink. She swallowed greedily, and drained the entire cup and pulled the glass away with a relieved sigh. The glass was taken from her, and a second was offered, which she took and only drank a few sips. She knew the Mage was right about her body going into shock and rejecting anything she might put into it, and forced herself to put the glass in her lap after only a few mouthfuls. 

Rahnah turned her gaze to the Mage, observed her a moment, and cocked her head to the side. 

"How...Did you heal me, at...Eclipsion point?" she manages to get out, her throat still stinging. The Mage offers a little blush and rubs the back of her neck sheepishly. 

"Funny thing, that. You see, when I was younger I was in the Priesthood. One day I was given a dummy to practice resurrection on, and...Well let's just say that my supervisors ended up needing the resurrection!" the Mage chuckles nervously. Rahnah purses her lip in an attempt not to laugh. A smile escapes her anyways. The woman sees it and grins back at her. 

"What is your name?" the Druid asks softly. The pain is only an echo now, but the frailty persisted as her hands continued to shake as they held the glass in her lap. The Mage hesitates, before offering a small smile.

"My name is Suri. Normally I stay here in the Temple, but I'd been sent to Eclipsion point to help some of the people there. When Ruul brought me to you, frankly, I was shocked. We don't make a habit of keeping prisoners." Suri responds gently, clearly troubled by something. Rahnah responds with a nod of acknowledgment, and her mind returns to her many questions she'd had before. Why was she here? What is so special about her and her necklace? Why does Kael'thas know her name, anyways? She doesn't like what that implies. She must have gotten on the Prince's radar in a bad way if he knew about her at all, which by proxy meant that she was on Illidan's radar as well. What Kael'thas knew, Illidan knew. 

She wasn't given much time to brood over it before a pair of Sunfury guards enter and say something to Suri in Thalassian. She responds heatedly, gesturing to Rahnah animatedly. The guards weren't moved by her words, and an order was barked. Suri reluctantly caved in, looked at Rahnah with pity before helping her out of the bed so she could stand. After she's sure she won't sway, Rahnah brushes the Mage off of her. The guards take a few steps in Rahnah's direction, and hesitate, looking at each other before the one closest to her reaches an elbow out. He was offering her his arm... 

Rahnah gave a half-hearted glare, but because she knew she wouldn't be able to walk on her own, looped her arm in his. He was very supportive, and made sure she didn't fall as they traversed the endless hallways of the wing Kael'thas called home. She was pretty lost by the time they came to their destination, or what she thought was their destination. Her knees shook a bit from exertion, and the Blood Elf guards seem to notice. The other guard places a hand on the small of her back, sensibly proper and not daring to go lower. She'd have attacked him if he thought he could manhandle her, she didn't care how weak she was. That would have called for blood. 

Two terrorfiends grant them entrance, and they enter what looks like a long meeting hall, complete with a sturdy wooden table that ran the majority of the length of the room, over a dozen chairs, and at the head of the table on the other side of the room... Rahnah dug her heels in as her chest constricted and fear overwhelmed her. The guards hesitated before gently coaxing her forward. She definitely did NOT want to approach the other end of the table!

At the other end, facing one of the walls, was the Betrayer himself, looking to be brooding. At his side was Kael'thas, speaking softly. Illidan grumbls something in return and Rahnah yelps as she tries to break free of the now confining grasp of the guards. She twists and tries to free herself, but the guards are prepared for this and keep her firmly between them, forcing her closer and closer until she is forced to kneel only a few feet from the massive Demon-Elf. 

She trembles as the guards finally release her and back up a respectable distance, bowing. She's rooted to her spot, too frightened to try and make an escape. She screws her eyes shut and starts mumbling a prayer to Elune, Mush'une, any higher being willing to listen. The elves clack on the stone and she silences. 

"Kael'thas. If this is another trick of yours, you'll regret it..." the Demon Lord growls, causing Rahnah to flinch back. 

"I assure you, she's no trick, my Lord. She was brought from the Netherwing fields by Ruul the Darkener and Grand Commander Ruusk. See for yourself, I don't jest." Kael'thas responds coolly. The Druid feels the powerful gaze turned upon her and she cringes. 

"This sniveling wretch cannot be her. I tire of your games, Bloodmage!" Illidan snarled, as he presumably turned to the Mage in question. Sensing his importance quickly dwindling, Kael'thas tries a second time. 

"My Lord, please indulge me. Observe her pendant, you'd know if it was a forged fake. Only you know the signature of the metal and magic you crafted into the piece..." Kael'thas quickly insists, and Rahnah dares to open her eyes, finding the cloven hooves in her field of vision. A grunt comes from the Demon, and with little to no sound he kneels in front of her, and she ducks her head down and snaps her eyes shut once more. This isn't happening, this just can't be happening! She was having a horrible nightmare, she was still in the prison cell back at Eclipsion point. She was delusional from the hit to her skull. Yes, that was it! 

Her little fantasy is dashed as the clawed hand grips her chin, with surprisingly gentleness. Her head is forced up, exposing her throat and the choker along with it. The other group of claws comes to her throat and toys with the crescent moon, and like Ruusk and Kael'thas before him, the Demon turned the moon over in his fingers. With her eyes screwed shut, she doesn't see Illidan's face soften and the mouth fall open. 

From his spot, Kael'thas gives a knowing smirk. 

What Rahnah expects to happen next doesn't. She isn't slapped to the ground, her throat isn't crushed, no magic consumes her mortal form. 

A pair of lips kisses hers with a surprising amount of softness. She doesn't hesitate in recoiling, opening her eyes to stare at the Demon Lord with a mixture of shock and fear. She hurries to scramble back, falling over her hands. She watches as a confused look crosses Illidan's face behind the blindfold. 

"I don't understand..." he mumbles, brows furrowed. Rahnah finally finds her voice.

She screams. At him.

"Why the hell did you kiss me! I don't know you, you're the monster of the Black Temple, I'm just a druid!" she cries out, disgust and terror plainly written on her face. Illidan's face becomes angry and he lashes out, grabbing her forcefully and pulling her back to him. His arms wrap around her and one of his massive clawed hands rests on the back of her head. She screams again and tries in vain to escape his clutches. He kisses her again, rough and demanding this time. He doesn't let her pull away, and his grip tightens so much its painful. She struggles against him, her mouth in a firm line as she denies him. What he does next makes her scream once more.

He pulls away and ducks his head to the crook of her neck, and savagely bites the skin there. Her strength renews and this time she shoves both hands against his chest and escapes, tumbling to the floor. She jumps to her feet and attempts to leave the room, but the guards swiftly cross their halberds to prevent her doing just that. She looks around in desperation and spies an opening carved out of the stone. It leads outside, to the open air. 

She'd never been able to do it before, but survival has a way of making things happen. 

She runs for the gap and before anyone can reach her she's jumping out of it and trying with all her might to call upon the wings of the raven. As she descends to the ground, her call is unheeded. She doesn't scream as she gets closer and closer to the ground. At this point she'd be happy to embrace the light of Elune in order to end this nightmare. Halfway to the ground, she pulls her arms tight around her and accepts her fate. Then terror seizes her as she hears the unmistakeable sound of leathery wings snapping open. 

Once again she calls upon the raven, and to her complete shock, Elune answers.

The transformation seems to last minutes, but in reality its only a couple of seconds. Her eyes slide shut as the bliss of the change envelops her. Feathers burst from her skin, and she snaps open her arms, and the wind catches her. Instead of smacking into the ground, or being caught by the Demon Lord on her tail, she rockets forward at an unprecedented speed, feet from the ground of the terrace below. She hears loud gasps and even a scream or two before she opens her eyes and pulls her wings in to roll to the side, narrowly avoiding a collision with a Naga. Her wings fold and open as she dodges in and out of the endless bodies of the Black Temple training grounds. She can hear the pounding of Illidan's wings behind her. 

She sends out a desperate plea through her heart, calling her loyal companion to her aid. A roar answers her, followed by an inhuman yell behind her. She snaps her wings open to come to a stop, and Illidan shoots past her, not expecting her maneuver. She begins to climb to the ceiling of the world, and a shape looms into her view. This one she welcomes, calling out with a caw from her beak. Another roar answers her as she approaches the figure. It's a young red drake, tearing through the sky. 

_Torinastrasz!_ she cries through their link, and she can only watch helplessly as his face contorts into terror. She has only a second to question why when something huge and solid collides with her. 

She squawks indignantly and does her best to claw at the Demon, but she's pressed to his chest and she doesn't have room to move. Torinastrasz screams for her, and she hurriedly sends him a message to flee, to save himself, to tell Anastrasz. If anyone can save her, it is her guild, led by one of the greatest red wyrms on Azeroth. 

_We'll come for you, I promise!_ She watches over Illidan's shoulder as Torin tears away and heads west, towards Shattrath city. She can only hope he isn't going to be pursued. 

She is aware of Illidan clawing through the air at an incredible pace, clearly taking her back to the temple to dole out punishment. Like him kissing then biting her wasn't enough... She squirms in his painful hold, but his arms won't give. His grip is stronger and hurting more than it had before. Obviously, he'd been holding back earlier, to avoid hurting her, for some reason. He didn't seem to have those reservations now. As she wiggles, she suddenly has an idea. Focusing, her body once again transforms, and her Elven body slips from his grasp before he can snatch her back. 

She tries to call the raven again, but realizes her critical error. 

She's out of mana.


	3. Life-Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief non-consensual activity in this one, but nothing graphic. There will be warnings on any chapter containing explicit sexual content or heavy violence.

He's flying, has been for two days. The usual thrill of the wind under his wings isn't present. But he can feel the air caressing him across the myriad of red scales enclosing his body, soft and comforting. It traces his face, and he leans into the touch, desperate for something to assure him. He catches a glimpse of something in the endless sea of trees below him, a smudge on the horizon. His vigor is renewed and he doubles his efforts despite his screaming muscles. The smudge grows larger and more defined.

Before him looms the omnipotent city of Shattrath, a sanctuary for people of any and all races. Home to the Aldors and the Scryers, as well as emissaries and delegates from every organization known. Here in the city is his guild, led by one of the strongest red wyrms alive, exceeded only by the red Aspect and her consort. The young red drake furls his wings in closer to his sides and slips into a slight dive, aiming for the central hub smack dab in the center of the city. A'dal the Naaru makes his home there, but within the structure are many buildings snug against the outer wall. One of these buildings is his destination. He pulls his wings closer and the dive gets deeper. When there are only a few hundred feet left, he snaps his wings open and slows down significantly. He comes to a graceful landing, back winging smoothly and landing with minimal disturbance on the large flat expanse meant for such things. The flight master stands a couple dozen yards away, and gives Torin a respectful salute. 

He nods, then groans as he lets his form shift into his humanoid preference. Where there was a young red drake weighing over a ton, there now stands an almost delicate looking male High Elf with shocking gold eyes, red hair, and is protected with gray and red mail armor with a blood red cloak sweeping around his feet. Shaking his body out in exhaustion, stretching the sore muscles, Torin then proceeds across the flat space to enter one of the many open passages to the heart of the city. Instantly the soft glow of white Light invades his senses, the magic and Light permeable to his sensitive eyes and nose. The Light is thick here, emanating from none other than A'dal himself. Milling around, talking, casting spells, are members of various races, Alliance, Horde, Aldor, Scryer...

With a brief bow to the Naaru, he continues on his path, his feet leading him to one of the medium sized buildings. The front door has no real door, just a magical barrier that prevents passage from unwanted guests. He passes through without so much as a blink, and he storms upstairs passing several startled guild mates with his expression a mix of anger and concern. He doesn't knock when he reaches the desired door, just barges in. The door slams against the wall, blatantly announcing his presence. He stands there panting heavily, and takes in the scene before him.

A second pair of golden eyes sends him a glare from the table the owner sits at. At the table are three guild mates, three very specific ones. Amemn Sunpath, a Blood Elf Rogue, sits farther apart from the other two, cleaning his nails with a throwing dagger. He wears gray and black leather armor decorated sparsely with six pointed suns. Next is an intimidating figure of a female Night Elf, one hand on the head of an absolutely giant Warpstalker by her feet. The Warpstalker is blue with red stripes, her eyes currently closed in slumber. The Huntress is donned in a combination of mail and leather, a myriad of reds and browns with one feathered spaulder on her left shoulder. A black longbow is leaning against the chair next to her. Her name is Be'ull Var, otherwise known as 'The Blue Rhododendron'.

At the other end of the table from Amemn, sits the one person in Outland that can cow Torinastrasz the red drake. Anastrasz 'The Bleeding Heart', leader to the guild Life-Blood and currently the only red wyrm present on the broken world of Draenor. His hair is spiked and swept back, with large wayward spiked bangs going every which way. A long goatee hangs from his chin, as red as his hair. Currently he is wingless, due to the relatively cramped space, but usually he has a massive pair of wings attached to his High Elf shoulders. Torinistrasz prefers to forgo the wings in his Elven form.

"Can we help you, Torin?" the wyrm growls, clearly irritated. The red drake quickly loses his nerve, the initial anger gone. He feels all three pairs of eyes staring him down. One had to have an especially good reason to interrupt an Officer's meeting. Thankfully, he had one.

"Bosambok and Rahnah have been captured. Bosambok is at Eclipsion point, but Rahnah is trapped in the Black Temple, with Illidan himself!" Torin blurts out, his panic obvious. Anastrasz's brows furrow and his eyes narrow. 

"I told them to be mindful when they took up Borak's mission..." the High Elf growls, slamming a fist into the wooden table, startling the Warpstalker at Be'ull's feet. The reptile lets out a low complaint, and settles in to attempt sleep once more. 

"We have to go save them! Rahnah tried to escape but Illidan caught her again, she told me to flee so I could inform the guild..." Torin whispers regretfully. If he was as old and powerful as Anastrasz, he could have taken Illidan on, maybe even won. Anastrasz seems to be thinking up a plan, and is silent for several minutes. Torin doesn't dare break the silence.

"Be'ull, sound the call. Gather everyone you can." the wyrm orders finally. Be'ull bows her head, pats her Warpstalker, grabs her bow, and slips past Torin who quickly scrambles out of the following reptile's way. She barely fits through the door, which gives Torin endless amusement. Be'ull is really letting Hyacinth gain too much weight. At this point, Amemn is busy twirling his dagger on the tip of a finger, watching it intently. Anastrasz looks down at the map that is spread over the table in front of him, and without warning Amemn's dagger is thrown and buried into the map and table alike with a loud 'thunk'. It landed in Netherstorm, to the northeast of the bulk of the zone, specifically on a lone island decorated in soft lavenders and reds, with a distinct insignia blazing under the metal of the weapon. Sunfury banners. 

Torin's brows furrow at this. Why Tempest Keep? 

"I had the same thought, Amemn. We will not be going to the Black Temple. We will go to Tempest Keep -"

"What do you mean we're _not_ going to the Black temple?!" Torin yells, his face contorted with rage. Anastrasz and Amemn both level the young drake turned High Elf with a glare. He flushes at his outburst, but doesn't apologize. 

"As I was saying, before I was rudely interrupted...We will go to Tempest Keep and Serpentshrine Cavern. In case you'd forgotten, _Torin_ , both Vashj and Kael'thas currently reside with Illidan. We couldn't possibly hope to take the three of them on all at once. We need to attack the normal residencies of his inferiors to draw them out, and leave Illidan open for the bulk of the guild to attack. I was going to have you lead the raid on the Black Temple after we'd drawn Vashj and the Prince out, but I think I will have you handle Kael'thas instead. I will take Vashj. Amemn will lead the raid to rescue Rahnah." the older dragon explains heatedly, turning his glare back to the map, removing the dagger and offering it back to the Blood Elf. 

Torinastrasz grumbles to himself for a moment before the glare settles on him once again.

"Something to say, _son_?" Anastrasz baits, and Torin's face flushes as he bows his head submissively.

"No, father..." 

"Good. You'll be taking Mara, Sarulan, Lamusana, and Bahnkoma. Yes, you're taking only women, don't you dare complain." Anastrasz comments, snapping at the end. Torin had opened his mouth to do much of the same, and he shut his jaw angrily. All women? How embarrassing...Sure he would be leading them, but come on. Anastrasz seems to read his thoughts and glares at his son again.

"They're all powerful, capable fighters, or healer, in Sarulan's case. You should be honored I'm giving you command over them, goodness knows they wouldn't follow you otherwise..." his father sighs, rolling his eyes. Torin bites back another nasty comment about how while they _are_ what Anastrasz says, it's pathetic to be protected by women. He should be protecting them, not the other way around. He should be able to burst into Tempest Keep, cloak flying and spells raging, and slay them all singlehandedly. Anastrasz could, he knew that.

"I'll be taking Be'ull, Zanima, Ty'jin, and Aeris. Amemn you're left with Keron, Ekksis, Zandashji, and Melody." Amemn nodded, and sheathed his dagger in some hidden pocket on his thigh. Torin has always resented Amemn. He is too aloof, as if he is above everyone else, and he is so silent...Torin felt his father's gaze on him, and looked up to see his expectant gaze. Torin isn't sure what to do next. Be'ull is gathering the guild, so he shouldn't be expected to help. Anastrasz looks pointedly at Amemn, who gets up and at a leisurely pace, leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. 

His father stands, and closes the space between them. Torin flinches when a hand falls on his shoulder. He's mentally preparing for some sort of lecture, when he is pulled into a rare paternal embrace. He's so shocked, it takes him a moment to return it.

"We will get them back, Torin... 'Together we will restore balance, no matter the struggle...' "

" 'No matter the cost.' " Torin finishes quietly. That is their pledge, the guild named Life-Blood. Anastrasz had formed it months ago upon the Dark Portal's opening. He had been angry with the lack of presence or action on the red dragonflight's part, so he went and began doing it on his own, taking Torinistrasz with him. Later he was joined by others of all sorts of races, who wanted the broken world of Draenor restored. They had Humans, Naga, Trolls, Night Elves, Dwarves, Blood Elves, High Elves, Tauren, Draenei, Arakkoa, and the Dragon father-son duo. They are over Twenty members strong. No doubt more will come to their cause with time.

They stand there, hugging, for several minutes. Anastrasz isn't exactly the greatest parent in the world...But he isn't abusive, neglectful or mean. He's a person, that's all. They finally separate, and his father claps him on the shoulder once more, a grim smile on his face. 

"Now...Go prepare, son. This will be difficult to pull off. We will all need to be at our best. Once you have everyone gathered and have all your supplies, set out for Netherstorm. Do not draw attention to yourselves, subtlety will be key. You'll need to infiltrate deep into Tempest Keep, kill a few of Kael'thas' leading subordinates, but not all of them. Wound them, do not crush them. Leave something to keep Kael'thas so busy that he won't be able to heed Illidan's desperate call for aid." the wyrm instructs, and Torin absorbs all of it. In his mind, he is already drawing out plans, who is best to kill, to leave alive. 

"You'll do well. I have faith in you." his father praises, and Torin allows himself a prideful grin.

"You too, father. Make a mess of Vashj's precious cavern." he chuckles gleefully. His father grins with him.

 

~

 

She dreams of flying, the thrill of the wind under her arms turned wings. She can feel the air caressing her countless feathers, soft and loving. It traces her cheeks, and she leans in to the gentle touch. She catches a glimpse of something in the endless sea of white surrounding her, a faint silhouette in the distance. She surges forward, curious. The shadow grows larger and darker. 

Soon it takes up more of the space than the white. She can't see, now, not even the beak in front of her eyes. She crosses her eyes in an attempt to see it, and is surprised to see her very Elven nose centered in her vision. The sensation of falling hits her hard, and she tries to scream. Her throat doesn't let a sound escape, not even a whimper. She stares into the unending blackness, pleading. She feels her body land, hard. She feels bones shatter, muscles rip, organs burst, then nothing.

~

She's dreaming again, but this time it feels like she's on a cloud, resting. She looks up and finds an empty, dark space. She looks to the right and finds a sea of green. She smiles faintly, and reaches a weak hand out to trace the color underneath her. It has the color of grass, but its softer and flat, molding to the ground perfectly. She hears a deep voice talking to a higher one, and she enters the bliss of nothingness once more. 

~

Her eyes are closed, and her body is burning with pain. She feels like she is being torn into a million pieces only to be stitched back together. The voices are talking again, but she can't understand them. The deeper of the two is soothing, and she is lulled back to sleep despite the agony.

~

When next she wakes, it's with a groan of agony. She writhes, and that only seems to make it worse, but she can't stop. The pain is all-encompassing, and she's miserable. She tosses her head side to side, clenches her jaw in a pained snarl. A voice calls out to her, but she doesn't care. She wants the misery to end. A wave of ice soothes over her skin, burrowing into her body and calming the burning. She stops writhing, and breathes heavily, her chest heaving. This time when the voice speaks, she listens.

"Rahnah? Rahnah...Come on, push through it. Just keep breathing. It's going to hurt for several more days, but I'll help as much as I can." the feminine voice says softly, and she feels a cold, smooth hand pet her forehead, followed by more cooling within her body. After a bit more time of the increasing coolness, she manages to pry apart her eyelids to gaze upon her healer. 

Standing - sitting? - by her bedside is the most stunning, beautiful, and yet still frightening, creature she's ever seen. Of course, no one can top Illidan in the fright department. 

_Illidan..._ she thinks with misery. Whatever had happened, she was clearly still in the Black Temple, because the creature at her side was a female Naga, and the only Naga in Outland were under Illidan's control except an outstandingly rare few, and she is pretty sure she is still in Outland. One of the Naga's four hands caresses her cheek, and Rahnah can't help but lean into it, the touch is so cool and she is so warm. For a moment she wonders what did happen, after she figured out she didn't have enough mana to summon the raven a second time. She desperately wants to sit up, but is afraid to try.

As if reading her thoughts, the Naga assists Rahnah in sitting up, which makes her clutch her abdomen tightly with a gasp. Moving aggravates whatever is wrong with her, that is clear. 

"If you'd fallen from any higher, we wouldn't have been able to save you..." the Naga murmurs. Rahnah is grateful she doesn't tack on the 'You're very lucky' cliche. The Naga just runs one hand in a comforting circle on the Druid's back, another resting on her lower leg, and the other pair of arms were situated in the reptile's lap. 

The Naga is in relatively simple attire, a black, somewhat sheer top that hangs loose and ends above her stomach, leaving a midriff enclosed by another sheer piece of black fabric that shields her privates from view. Three sea shells decorate the top hem of the skirt, and another hangs from a pearl-string necklace that is cradled between her breasts. A choker with another shell is higher on the woman's throat, a string circlet decorated with two shells above her jawline and a ruby set in gold resting on her forehead. Bracers are wrapped around all four of the woman's arms, as well as smaller bracers in the middle of her upper arms. The fabric is sheer black, leaving nothing to the imagination, the bracers are a deep crimson, the shells are a softer red, and what makes the reptilian woman truly beautiful and striking, is the color of her scales and eyes. 

 

Her scales are the most pure shade of gold Rahnah has ever seen, with her belly scales a faint red, and her eyes a stunning ruby. Her lips and the webbing of her fins are the same faint red of her belly scales. Rahnah can't recall a more beautiful woman, of any race. This Naga is not wearing the usual scowl or sneer that all other Naga she'd come across had had. Her features are soft, despite the spines on her head and back being so obviously sharp. Something is vaguely familiar about her, but Rahnah can't place what. 

She stops gawking at the other woman finally, and looks at her own lap. She's scared to ask what is on her mind. 

"If you're wondering what happened...You died." the Naga says softly, her brows furrowing. Rahnah idly observes that the Naga doesn't speak with the typical hissing of her kind. Then her brows furrow too. She'd...Never died before, and by consequence, never been resurrected. This must be what it feels like, total agony. Or maybe that is due to the nature of her death. She decides to ask.

"Because...of my death, the way I died, is that why I'm in so much pain?" she asks quietly, bringing a hand up to her heart, which is pounding something fierce. She looks to the Naga, who gives a slight nod. 

"All resurrections can do is return your soul to your body, and heal life threatening wounds. The rest is up to the healer to repair. The worse the wound, the stronger the latent pain. When you're healed from near-death, the pain is taken away. But when your soul separates from your body in true death, there is nothing to remove that pain but time. I can stifle it, but it will be there until the soul has properly bonded once more with the body." she explains solemnly. 

Rahnah sighs, and looks away. 

"I was ready...I'd rather have...departed to Elune's light, than become his prisoner...But it looks like Elune has other plans for me..." Rahnah whispers, her voice full of pain and sorrow.

"He isn't that bad, Rahnah...He's missed you. We've all missed you. Do you truly not remember..?" the Naga asks, her voice pleading. Rahnah glances at the reptile in confusion and apprehension. 

"Remember? No. The first thing I remember is waking up in Bosambok's home. He'd said I'd had a great head wound, and he'd rescued me." Rahnah scoffs, shaking her head slightly. She refuses to believe that, the life she didn't remember, has anything to do with Illidan or the Black Temple. She is a faithful servant of the balance, and if Illidan is anything, he is the exact _opposite_ of balance. He is chaotic, ruthless, dangerous. No sane believer of any of the benevolent gods and goddesses would serve him. 

"You've been gone for over a year. Illidan has been heart broken...They say when he saw you, they could see his heart brighten. But your rejection of him...I think that has broken his heart more than your disappearance." the Naga comments, removing her hands from Rahnah's body. Rahnah once again looks to her, searching. 

"If my previous life was here, I don't remember it, and I have absolutely no desire to continue it. Whoever I was, whether I was here or not, I'm not that person anymore." Rahnah insists, her voice cold and her face stern. The Naga recoils, nodding briskly. She raises up abruptly, and begins to leave, taking her healing magic with her. The further she gets away, the further pain Rahnah is thrust into. It becomes so painful she lets out a scream, falling back into the bed in a fit of spasms.

"I can leave you like that, you know. He won't stop me. Because he knows you're stronger than the pain, that you're strong enough to remember on your own. I was one of your closest friends...It hurts me to hear you talk like that. It hurts all of us, especially him. All we're asking is that you try to remember, just try...Please..." The Naga pleads, coming just close enough to take the edge of the pain away. Rahnah lays there, her lungs burning from the strain of breathing. How can she be in so much pain? She'd never experienced anything like this in her life - a flash of something crosses her memory, and she suddenly feels like she _has_ been in this much pain before...But she just can't recall when, or what had caused that pain.

"I'm not trying to remember, but something has changed...I keep...I recognize you, but I've never met you before - in this life, at least. And the pain...It's more than I've ever been in!" she moans, staring up at the bleak gray ceiling. "But it feels like I've been hurt this bad before, I just...I don't know when, or how..." she whimpers, curling in on herself to try and dull the pain. It helps, but only a little. Then, she can hear the Naga approaching, and with her closing in, the pain dramatically decreases. She heaves a huge sigh in relief. 

"My name is Kalazsh. We were very close, before you were...I'm not allowed to say. He's said he'll be the one to tell you what happened." the Naga - Kalazsh - speaks up softly, and a hand comes to Rahnah's shoulder, rubbing it briefly. 

"You've been asleep for several days. You went in and out, a few times, but this is your first time being coherent. I'm supposed to call for Lord Illidan, but I'll give you a bit more time, if you want. I'll have to leave when he comes in. He has his own way of suppressing your pain, but it's demonic in nature. He doesn't want to taint your spirit more than he has to." Kalazsh murmurs, one of her scaled hands stroking the Druid's sweating forehead. Rahnah can't hold back the moan that escapes her at the cooling touch. Kalazsh chuckles, and continued to pet her. 

"It's good to have you back, Rahnah. None of us were the same while you were gone. Illidan took it the hardest, but it demoralized a lot of us. The raids on the Temple have been getting worse, Lady Vashj and Prince Kael'thas have had to come just to keep the raiders out of the deeper parts of the Temple. The soldiers just haven't had the heard to bolster up a better defense. You've been here five days, and already we have begun to push the raids back." Kalazsh informs her, smiling slightly. Rahnah doesn't have the heart to say that her guild has attempted to raid the Temple at one point or another. Rahnah and Bosambok hadn't been present for that, they'd been occupied with a task in Nagrand, the other side of the world. 

Kalazsh suddenly withdraws her hands, and rises stiffly with her head bowed. Rahnah let her eyes shut as she prepares for the worst. 

"My Lord...I apologize for not immediately informing you...She wanted to rest some more..." Kalazsh speaks worriedly, but confidently. Kalazsh, it seems, is used to being in the Demon Lord's presence, and is not blatantly scared of him.

"Leave. I'll summon you when I'm done." the deep voice growls, and it is all Rahnah can do to hide her hateful expression. Kalazsh bows deeply, slithers away in a hurry, and shuts the heavy doors behind her. For several minutes, she lays there, under his gaze. She doesn't dare move, and he dares not approach. It's awkward. Finally, the silent torture ends, replaced with an audible one. His hooves clunk heavily on the stone tiles, but other than that, he is as quiet as a ghost. She can hear, now, that he has come to stand by the head of the bed, and then she hears him kneel. She isn't about to open her eyes to look.

"I know you're awake. Look at me." the Demon demands gruffly. Under her lids, she rolls her eyes, then does as he says. This is her first real look at him, and though she is still frightened, she is able to take in his appearance. His skin is a dark purple, he's decorated with glowing green tattoos on his shoulders and arms, which she expected to mirror each other, but they don't. Upon his back are two absolutely huge wings that sort of resemble bat wings, but maybe they're just normal for a demon's wings. His hair is long, and raven black. Just as black is a simple blindfold from which a faint golden glow emanates. Above this are those infamous curved horns, a dark gray in color and ridged on the inside of the curve. Behind his hair are two completely normal Kal'dorei ears.

He seems to have observed her while she looked at him, because he is just as silent as her. Over all, she finds that he isn't the ugly beast that people often describe him as. Putting all the demonic aspects aside, women could easily call him handsome. But Rahnah isn't one of the ones who would. She can't see past the horns, tattoos, wings, and the obvious demonic influence to the glow in his eyes. 

"She said you wanted to tell me about...Whatever happened before. I don't believe that I ever was involved with the Legion, but I've got a feeling I'm stuck here for a while." the Druid sighed, breaking the silence. The Demon Lord nods once, stands up, and promptly sits at her feet - which she curls up closer to her body. For a moment he looks angry, so she slowly returns her feet by his side. She does NOT want to piss him off again. He still looks angry, so she rolls her eyes and lets him be.

"It has been a year, three months and ten days since I have looked upon your face..." Rahnah did a quick calculation, and that indeed was how long it had been since Bosambok said he had found her in that cave. "That was four days ago. I'd never been happier in my life, seeing you that day. I was...Shocked, at your reaction. When you leapt from that window...All I could feel was the anger. You had returned to me, at last. And yet, it is as if you'd never rejoined me. Kalazsh says you remember nothing." Illidan declares mournfully. He isn't looking at her, now. He's staring off towards another set of doors. A quick look around shows her that this room has no windows. Well, there goes her hope of attempting to escape again once she regained some mana...

"She has also told me there is hope, something I have not had since your absence. Resurrection has a way of jogging memories, as the soul repairs itself, it repairs everything, current or past. She says you may yet recover yourself." the Demon says in a low voice. It is almost as if he thinks he is alone, rather than speaking to her... She's observing him again when he turns to look at her. She quickly averts her eyes. 

"You were my apprentice, when you were taken from me. The first to follow in my footsteps. There have been others, since, but you were and remain, the best pupil I ever taught...You were set upon by traitors, when you were weakest. You had begun the process of absorbing a demon's soul...Your soul was open, your body weak. The cowards overwhelmed you, and hit you in the head with such force...They got a good distance away before three of the Sunfury discovered you were missing. Instead of informing me, like they should have, they went after you." he pauses, here, and takes a deep breath. 

"The Sunfury engaged your attackers. One, a Warlock, attacked the Naga who carried you. In an attempt to return you to the Temple, she cast a summoning spell in reverse, the first ever attempted. It worked, but not the way she had planned. You were not returned to the temple. You were lost, the Warlock could not trace you to your destination." he continued, as he spoke she could feel his eyes on her. She is having a hard time believing this is real, if only because she is sure that she would never have aided the Burning Legion. She is devoted to Elune and Mush'une, the guardian of balance and the guardian of those Druids who took up the mantle of the Hunt, like her. But he is speaking so sincerely, it is hard to call him a liar. He seems to truly believe that this is the way of things. Perhaps what they say about his sanity is true...

He remains silent for a while, and Rahnah chances a look at him. He is still staring at her intently. With a gulp she doesn't break eye contact. The corners of his mouth twitch, and the tiniest smile appears on his lips, like he's pleased with her for not backing down.

"That is the woman I remember...Looking forward, with no fear...Nothing was able to stand in your way, back then. Does that still hold true?" he chuckles, reaching a hand out to run a knuckle along her jawline, only to rest finger and thumb on her chin. With a small glare, she holds her silence. She is not about to admit that yes, when she wants something, practically nothing can stop her...Bosambok often calls her a bull, because of it. Says her form should be a steer, not a cat.

His thumb caresses the bump of her chin, and to her horror he leans over, brushing his lips against hers, shockingly gentle. He pulls back the barest bit, and she can see the small grin on his face. He's waiting for her...She blinks as a feeling begins to overwhelm her - the feeling of lips on hers, her pushing back with passion and heat. Her breath hitches as the memory of the feeling stirs something as if she'd stuffed it down long ago. Her eyes flutter between being open and being closed, and before she knows what is happening he is kissing her softly again. And she isn't pushing him away. Why?

She can't explain it, something just feels...Right, about his lips being on hers. She doesn't return it, but her body betrays her with a whimper as he withdraws. He chuckles for a moment before once more pressing his lips against hers. She can't resist this time, and her lips move of their own accord in a dance with his. She's so distracted she doesn't react when she feels the bed dip as he adjusts himself so he is on top of her, knees on either sides of her calves, one hand at her shoulder and the other keeping a firm hold on her cheek. 

As he deepens the kiss, Rahnah suddenly comes back to her senses and withdraws into the pillow under her head with a shocked expression, her brows knit together and her mouth open in a little circle. She's surprised when he lets out a low growl - and he kisses her with some more force. She realizes that it isn't a growl of anger, but one of possession. What had she just set into motion? With fear she tries to pull away again, only to have his claws curl around the back of her head to keep her still. 

She whimpers out of panic, and his kisses only get more insistent. He moves from her lips to her jaw, and traces down to her neck where the bite he had given her before has scabbed over. He presses heated kisses to the tender flesh, then his teeth nestle into the wound once more. She grunts as his fangs break the skin with ease. She's pinned, and she doesn't know how to get out from under him, or how to get him to stop. Tentatively, she places her hands upon his bare, tattooed chest and applies some pressure. He just pushes back, bringing their bodies flush against one another.

Horror begins to race through her as he languidly presses an erection against her, pulling his teeth away from the bite only to suck on the bleeding wound. She shivers, and to her further horror it isn't completely from terror. Her body is responding to him. She can't remember ever sleeping with someone in a non-platonic way. Sure, she would fall asleep in Bosambok's arms, her head tucked under his chin, but he is like a father to her...She'd never...This was new territory to her, within this new life. She doesn't have anything else to judge the experience by, all she knows is that her body is wanting something, and the Demon Lord kissing and pressing against her is giving it to her.

She gasps loudly as he dips his other hand down in between her thighs, the pads of his fingers pressing against the cloth of her - trousers? No. That's a skirt. A blush envelopes her face as she comes to the realization that she no longer wears her leather armor, and is in a simple cotton gown, which would offer absolutely no protection from _him_. If she were in her leathers, he'd have to rip them off if she didn't help him. They only went on one way, and they only came - willingly - off one way. She does not currently have that luxury.

Two of his fingers knead the flesh between her legs as he resumes greedily kissing her throat. She wants to try to squirm away, but is too frightened that he might take her moving the wrong way. The uninvited digits retreat for a moment, only to lift the skirt of the gown to her hips. She begins to cry in silence as she tries to accept the inevitable. She bites her bottom lip to avoid making a sound, of horror, or of shameful desire. The fingers are replaced against the folds of her sex, as he deftly begins to work his fingers against the flesh while avoiding contact with his claws. It's at this point where it isn't fun for even her body, the fear winning over instinct.

She slams her eyes shut, unable to bear it anymore as tears flow freely. She has a brief moment of wondering why he hasn't noticed her lack of response yet, then mentally slaps herself. He's a demon, he doesn't care if she's willing or not...

He's kissing her jaw, now, and his husky voice speaks to her.

"Let me show you how much I missed you..." 

She can't help the sob that escapes her. He freezes, then suddenly the fingers are withdrawn. She hears a sigh as his forehead rests against hers, his horns framing her face, caging her in.

"It appears... I am mistaken...You seemed to remember yourself...myself...My hopes got the better of me, I suppose..." he whispers quietly, and she can hear the pain in his voice. She risks looking up at him, her vision blurred with tears. The glow of his eyes is absent, she notices. Does that mean his eyes are closed? She gives a small whimper of fear as he kisses her one more time - the tender side of him once more present. She doesn't return it, her fear too potent. He pulls back, then abruptly lets his body fall to her right, landing heavily on the bed beside her.

She blinks back her tears, and stares at him. His eyes appear to be open again, and she isn't quite sure where he is looking. Without looking at her, he speaks again.

"Before you were lost to me, I had been courting you for nearly two years...When I began courting you, I gave you that necklace and earring set. Both are made out of a rare mineral called 'Titanium'... It is only found on the continent of Northrend, and is particularly rare. I'd brought some with me after...After Arthas nearly killed me. Originally I had planned to use the small amount I had for other purposes, but then I met you. You changed everything...You changed me. You became the center of my world, rooting me in the present, fighting the call of Sargeras and the insanity his whispers brought. Already, I feel your presence dulling his..." there is a pause in his story, and she doesn't dare interrupt.

"About three weeks prior to your disappearance...I had proposed to you. On the day you were lost, you had told me you would give me your answer upon completion of the ritual that would bind a demon's soul to your own. I never received your answer..." he says softly, solemnly. Despite her absolute fear of him, she hesitantly reaches a hand over to settle upon the shoulder closest to her. He glances at her, but says nothing.

"I...I'm not sure I believe any of this...But if its true...I'm sorry. I can't imagine how much it must have hurt, to be torn from the one you love. I wouldn't know...Since I woke up in that cave, I haven't felt a pull towards anyone." here she pauses as the lie slips past her lips. She has felt a pull towards another, but only one. He isn't interested in anyone, he shows that every time she sees him with his silence and his carefree attitude. So she never brought it up to him. Telling Illidan that there _is_ someone she's interested in doesn't really seem like a good idea, though. If his attitude so far is anything to go by, he is a jealous and possessive person. Telling him would likely end up with the man dead.

"Like I said... I'm not sure I believe any of this, but...Something has changed. I'm...I'm having vague recollections. Feelings, memories. For some reason it feels like I know that Naga, but I'm certain I've never met her until today. I would remember meeting a Naga as stunning as her, who wasn't trying to kill me." she confesses, looking back up at the ceiling. She doesn't tell him how just now, before he had climbed on top of her, she'd felt some sort of attraction to him that she can't possibly begin to understand, some sort of connection that is tucked away somewhere deep within her and is only now attempting to claw its way out. 

Without her saying it however, he seems to just know.

"That is why you kissed me back, I suppose. Something was woken inside of you. But clearly not what I had interpreted." the demon Lord grumbles, dissatisfaction plain in his tone. She resists rolling her eyes. He's acting akin to a spoiled child who isn't getting what he wants. Illidan isn't exactly panning out to be the overwhelming, fearsome, disgusting monster that he has been made out to be. He is just a person, with wants and dislikes, faults and strengths...It's hard to remember the countless evils he has committed for the Burning Legion. Then again...History has a way of making the villain out to be pure evil. Not that she is excusing his actions, but maybe...Maybe he had been driven to action by motives he thought worthy. It is said, after all, that he had pined after his brother's wife, Tyrande Whisperwind, for over ten thousand years. That also, made it difficult to believe that he had fallen in love with her-maybe-past-self. Isn't he completely infatuated with Tyrande? 

None of it makes sense to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some new concepts brought into this chapter, namely resurrection, Druid transformations, and just how much distance is across the expanse of Outland.
> 
> First of all, I'm trying to take a unique approach to working with resurrection. I'm not going to abuse it, it won't be used often. Basically, depending on the nature of the death depends on whether or not the person can be resurrected. If the body is too damaged, the soul has nothing to reconnect with, making resurrection impossible, hence why Kalazsh said if Rahnah had been any higher, they couldn't have saved her. I'm also playing off of the idea of Resurrection Sickness, with the whole lingering pain thing. 
> 
> Now onto Druid transforming. While for the game it makes sense for a magical white light to poof the new form into existence, that's kind of silly for a story. So, they take on a sort of Worgen / Werewolf style transformation with the new parts growing, shifting or changing at a rapid pace. Likewise for in reverse.
> 
> As for the great distances of Outland, it's not realistic for someone to travel from the Black Temple to Shattrath in under 10 minutes. So, the journey is a couple days, even for something like a drake going at top speed non-stop.
> 
>  
> 
> I hope this clarifies the ideas for you, and that you enjoyed this chapter. :)


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